


what i'd do to have you near

by softhar



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1930s, Childhood Friends, Established Relationship, Historical, M/M, One Shot, a very short one shot, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:09:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23726611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softhar/pseuds/softhar
Summary: Oh, to be a handsome young navy man in 1930 with curly hair and dirt on my nose on my break from hauling cargo from the shipyard, reading a Little Blue Book titled Homosexual Life that I bought for 5¢, pretending not to notice the banker’s son eyeing me in a truly sinful way.alternatively called: handsome navy boy pines over hot banker.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 27
Kudos: 166





	what i'd do to have you near

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! an anon on tumblr a couple of days ago asked me to write something based on [this post](https://acrowandaboy.tumblr.com/post/185695416656/oh-to-be-a-handsome-young-navy-man-in-1930-with) and this was the outcome so i hope you like it! if you have any questions im on @wastelandharry on tumblr and @sunflowrvolumes on twitter<3
> 
> **please don't repost my work anywhere!**

The sun is at its highest when officer Harry Styles is finally told to take a break from hauling the heavy wooden boxes onto the tall ship he’ll have to live on for the next year or so. It’s a busy Tuesday afternoon and everyone is bustling about the place to get their jobs done as quickly as possible, their yelled instructions adding to the already loud atmosphere. The wind smells strongly of fish and salt and it whips Harry’s hair against his sunburnt face as he stumbles off the wooden ramp.

“Liam!” he calls out to his colleague, who uses his hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he turns to face Harry. “I’m takin’ my break. I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

“Don’t go too far, Styles,” Liam tells him with a knowing look before wiping the sweat off his brow and climbing up the ramp with yet another box gathered in his arms.

Harry waits until his back is turned to roll his eyes and heads across the port to where he can hide from the unforgiving sun, if only for a little while. His curls are plastered to his neck with a thick layer of sweat and he can feel them stick up in every possible direction when he takes his cap off. There’s probably dust all over his face, but he cannot bring himself to care; all he focuses on is making his way out of the port without bumping into any of the hot-tempered officers with crates in their hands. He keeps his head down until the horns of the ships sound more like echoes rather than the ear-splitting sound he still hasn’t grown accustomed to. His feet take him to where the gravel turns into solid pavement and his hometown welcomes him with open arms for the last time in God knows how long as he walks down the main road.

His uniform makes him stand out like a sore thumb amongst the dull colours the people around him are wearing, but he’s known everyone his entire life and no one spares him a glace when he walks by them, relief washing over him at the lack of attention he’s receiving now that everyone’s said goodbye to him. By the time he sits down on his favourite bench in front of the town’s bank, it feels like his neck is on fire and his shirt is sticking to his chest and back with the sweat rolling down his skin, but the tall tree next to him gives him the shade he’s been longing for and all his training fades from his mind when he slumps back against the bench with his eyes closed.

He lets the salty breeze cool his skin for the next few minutes, simply enjoying the peace and quiet he knows he will not have in the following months, before taking the small blue booklet out of his pocket. The corners have gained permanent creases from how much he’s been bending them and the ink on the cover is slightly smudged with the drops of water that have fallen on it, but it’s Harry’s only permanent partner onboard. It only cost five cents and it came with a smile from the seller, so Harry looks past the booklet’s flaws and holds it close to his heart now more than ever.

He’s mouthing along to the words on page ten when he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he glances up from the book, his eyes searching for whoever might be watching him. At first, no one in particular stands out and he returns the few polite smiles that are sent his way.  _ Stop being silly,  _ Harry tells himself, opening the book again, but as he brings his attention back to the printed words, a figure standing right across the street from him catches his eye, and a smile forms on his lips when he recognises the person.

Louis Tomlinson and Harry aren’t strangers; quite the opposite, actually. Harry’s sister and him used to play together when they were children while Harry watched from the sidelines, much too young to join them on their adventures. But as they grew up and Harry’s sister was whisked away to learn how to manage a family, the two boys gradually grew closer and closer until seeing one without the other became a rare sight. As time went on, Harry began to notice that their goodbye hugs lasted longer with every week that passed, that when they high-fived their hands lingered for a second too long and their cheeks would turn bright red as they pulled away. Neither of them had come to terms with their feelings until a hot summer day, much like the one today, when Louis tripped Harry after a particularly cheeky comment and made him fall on his back. What neither of them had counted on, though, was Harry pulling Louis down with him, Louis landing on his chest with a quiet  _ oof. _ Harry’s never really understood what made him kiss Louis that day, whether it was the heat or the fact that they were so close that he could see every colour in Louis’ eyes as clear as day, but when he leaned forward and pressed their lips together and Louis didn’t pull away, he knew he’d made the right decision.

Harry closes his book and rests it on his thigh while he slowly drags his eyes over Louis’ body until their eyes meet, and his mouth curls into a smirk. The look in Louis’ eyes is one he’s seen many times throughout the years but it still somehow manages to make Harry’s entire body flush and butterflies flutter in his stomach. To anyone passing by, Harry’s red face might be a result from being under the blazing sun for so long, but Louis knows him much better than that and the smug grin he gives is enough to make Harry squirm. However, before either of them can move, a voice from inside the bank yells Louis’ name and they both turn towards the sound, hearts racing like they’ve been caught doing something wrong.

With a sigh, Louis stubs his cigarette under his shoe and when he glances back at Harry one last time, the spark in his eyes has not faded, but his grin has turned into a sad smile that makes Harry’s chest ache. They said their goodbyes the previous night with the shining stars littered across the night sky as their witnesses, but the realization that this is the last time they will be near each other punches the air out of Harry’s lungs and he exhales sharply. He longs to run across the street and take Louis into his arms and take him somewhere where it will be just the two of them, but Louis has a bank to inherit, and Harry has a duty to perform. Instead, they give each other a thumbs up, a gesture subtle enough to go unnoticed by other people but one that they’ll immediately recognise. _I love you,_ it says. _Please be careful._

_ I’ll be okay, _ Harry mouths, hoping to calm the nerves he knows are forming in Louis’ head.

_ You better be, _ Louis mouths back, one foot already inside the bank.  _ Don’t forget about me. _

_ You know I won’t _ is what Harry tells him, but the front door has already closed behind him, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts and the blue booklet in his hands.

He stares into the window of the bank in hopes that he’ll get one last glimpse of his boy before he starts heading back to the ship, but he sees nothing but shadowy figures moving around in the building, so he turns to his thoughts as he gets up from the bench. The gravel under his feet crunches with every step he takes and he keeps his head low to avoid any kind of interaction that will take his attention away from the images running through his mind.

He thinks of stolen kisses under the summer sun that taste like fresh strawberries, of tender words being whispered under a blanket in the middle of the night and of warm fingers trailing down his bare back as he sleeps. He thinks of curse words being gasped out against salty skin and of sensations that make his toes curl like there’s pure sunshine running through his veins, and of promises written onto each other’s bodies in the form of purple bruises that bloom like flowers overnight.

Harry knows that being out at sea for months will get incredibly lonely, but he also knows that he’s got an ocean worth of memories to turn to if he ever feels too alone and a beautiful boy to come back home to, and that’s all he needs.

  
  



End file.
